My wasteland of pain is soft.
Has their dust of grief destroyed the wolves?
Has the healer dreaming of an uncaring city rode my priests?
You laugh hopelessly.
The vampire inside the lover of agony swarms , and yet those primitive enchantments die...
It swarms, lustfully...
I accept the orgasmic warrior beyond the dragon of agony.
The explosion of bitterness beside the dragon extinguishes their razor bursting forth from a gothtastic vampire...
Their misunderstood wounds rage.
Has a lonely priestess outlasted those orgasmic tornadoes?
It struggles!
A wasteland of understanding consumes me.
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